


Summer Naps

by itsmoonpeaches



Series: Lost My Heart in Republic City [6]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Kataang Being Domestic, Kataang Week, Kataang Week 2020, POV Aang (Avatar), Post-100 Year War (Avatar TV), Post-Avatar: The Last Airbender, Pre-Avatar: Legend of Korra, Republic City, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:47:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25649776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsmoonpeaches/pseuds/itsmoonpeaches
Summary: Prompt: Napping-“Katara,” he spoke her name gently, “you need a nap.” He was in a slight turn toward the door, one hand grasping onto a wooden spoon over the stove. There was a steady flame that he was feeding with his firebending underneath the metal pot.Katara ignored his suggestion, instead sniffing the air. “Oh, that smells good,” she said. “What are you cooking for dinner?”-Or, Katara is exhausted and Aang coaxes her to nap.
Relationships: Aang & Katara (Avatar), Aang/Katara (Avatar)
Series: Lost My Heart in Republic City [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1851508
Comments: 20
Kudos: 111





	Summer Naps

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Day 6: Napping.
> 
> Okay, this is probably one the fluffiest things I've ever written in my life. I feel like I ate a bag of cotton candy by myself in one sitting. This is also the shortest oneshot that I've written for this Kataang Week series, but I did have a lot of fun writing it!

It had been a busy few weeks for Republic City’s Water Tribe residents. Katara had assisted in opening the first waterbending school within the city, and she was an integral figure in the process. She helped set up the curriculum for practical and fighting styles and had helped with building a center for healers. She had helped to gather masters and teachers from the Northern Water Tribe and had collected what was left of the teachings from the Southern Water Tribe style.

Aang was so proud of her accomplishments and watched from behind curtains as she presented the school to crowds of people with other teachers. At only twenty-three, Katara was so well respected in bending circles. Not only was she known as the first female waterbender trained in fighting in the Northern Water Tribe, but she was good enough to be the Avatar’s waterbending master, had defeated Princess Azula, had fought in the Hundred Year War, and was a great healer on top of all of that.

But Aang could see the dark circles under her eyes. She had not slept well for days, weeks even, because she had helped prepare. People had been tugging her in all kinds of directions, asking for opinions and advice. Aang himself could relate on some level, but this was all Katara’s area of expertise. She was the expert in all things waterbending. She was the one who taught _him_ after all. Just because he was a master as well, did not mean that he considered himself to be as well versed in teaching the ancient art as she was.

He watched her walk into their apartment like a ghost. It was late afternoon, and the sun had only just begun its descent behind the mountains. Shadows were cast across the furniture and made her appear more tired.

Still, Aang thought she was the most beautiful person in the world. When it was time, he would ask her to marry him. He knew that neither of them was quite ready for that yet, with so many things going on and ripples from the end of the war still so present. For now, he could at least coax her to rest.

“Katara,” he spoke her name gently, “you need a nap.” He was in a slight turn toward the door, one hand grasping onto a wooden spoon over the stove. There was a steady flame that he was feeding with his firebending underneath the metal pot.

Katara ignored his suggestion, instead sniffing the air. “Oh, that smells good,” she said. “What are you cooking for dinner?”

“Mung bean soup,” he replied, returning his attention back to the pot. He added minced onions, some coconut milk, and a healthy serving of horseradish plant leaves. “Mind if I put in some bitter melon?”

“Go for it,” she said. “You cook it better than anyone else.”

He nodded, grasping the chopping board nearest to him and a single wrinkled bitter melon before he made his way around it with a knife. When he was finished, he put the curved slices into the brewing stew.

“Rice is already cooked,” Aang informed her. He took a tiny sip from the spoon, humming in approval. He snuffed out the fire with a quick swipe of his hand. On the counter beside him was the steamed pot of rice, just waiting to be served. “Why don’t we eat an early dinner, and you can take that nap I was talking about?”

Aang slipped the lid on the soup and placed the cooking utensil on top of a coaster next to it. He swiveled around just as Katara approached him. She had taken off her boots and her feet were clad in only a pair of socks. She tilted her head up to him to peck his cheek.

“I promised Master Tarkik that I would look over these Southern Water Tribe waterbending scrolls tonight,” she said, lips brushing on his skin. In her arms was a compact box engraved with the symbols for the moon and ocean. She rocked back on her heels, an appreciative expression on her face. “I’ll take you up on dinner, though.”

Aang grinned. “Are you asking me on a date?” 

She bit her bottom lip, holding in a giggle. “Are you paying for it?” she teased.

Neither of them could help it. They started snorting with mirth. Aang held his middle, bending over and shaking with laughter. He wiped the corners of his eyes. Katara only shook her head at herself and placed the scrolls on the desk that stood across the hall in their living room. She slid off the top of the box and laid out each piece of rolled-up parchment with care. There were strands of hair that had come undone from the bun on the back of her head, framing her face.

As Aang prepared their bowls of food, he could not help but continue to marvel at the way she moved with the grace that was hers alone. She was a river rushing through the crags of a valley. She was the ocean on the eve of a full moon, tides receding and rolling with each breath. She was the stillness of a pond, the eagerness of a tributary waiting to grow into something more.

He smiled to himself while he set the table. He laid out porcelain cups full of cool lychee juice next to both bowls. He knew she would like it because it was something refreshing. Besides all her stress from completing the school, it had been a proportionally hot summer.

Katara made her way back to the dining area in the kitchen and sat across from him, eyes widening at the spread. Aang said a blessing, and they started eating.

“This is delicious,” she said, smiling around a bite of mung beans and jasmine rice, “you’ve really outdone yourself this time.”

“You deserve the best,” he replied.

They sat in comfortable silence until everything was finished. They gulped down their lychee juice last, and Katara let out a satisfied sigh. Aang was proud of himself. He strove hard to get such a reaction from her.

He stood up, clearing the table, and bringing the dishes over to the water basin where he began to wash them. Katara returned to her desk, poring over the scrolls. The sun skimmed the horizon outside their window, and evening was fully setting in.

When he was done, Aang lit the oil lamps around the living room with a touch of his fingers to the wicks. He propped against the pillar that separated the kitchen and living room, observing Katara’s profile as she concentrated. A palm rested on her cheek; her posture was slouched. He could see the tiredness on every inch of her from the way her eyes flitted across the parchment, to the way her body seemed to sag into the stool. The firelight danced across her features, highlighting the tension on her face.

Exhaling, Aang steadied himself before he strode toward her. He stooped low behind her, draping his arms from her back and around her neck until his hands dangled invitingly at her navel. He rested his chin on her shoulder.

“Aang,” she sighed, leaning her head back so that it nestled into his collarbone. 

“Katara,” he joked with a smirk. “Take a nap. You need it. You are exhausted. You won’t be able to do anything like that.”

When she did not respond, he said, “Just for an hour.”

“Nope.”

“I’ll join you,” he suggested. He waggled his eyebrows, angling his chin further into the crook of her neck.

Katara scoffed, trying to maintain a serious attitude. “I really have to finish this. There’s a lot to do,” she remarked matter-of-factly. She turned another page. 

Aang frowned, then turned his nose into her hair, his lips whispering across her ear. “What do you have to do anyway?” He chuckled when she shivered.

“Write notes on the differences between Northern and Southern styles,” she responded. But he knew he had her distracted. Everything she said was soft, husky.

“I’ll help you. How about I do half of whatever you have left? We are both masters.”

“Aang, I couldn’t ask that of you.”

“You’re not. I’m offering,” he insisted.

By then, he had fully embraced her, arms clasped around her stomach. The sweet scent of water lilies and the freshness of the sea wavered from her hair, tickling the tip of his nose. He murmured about how intoxicating she was into her ear, how he was so lucky that they could be with each other, how he thought she needed to _sleep…_

He let his teeth tug at her ear. She gasped, turning around to face him with a red face. He shot her a mischievous smirk and was laughing.

“A nap, my lady,” he repeated. 

When she complied, he pulled her into the bedroom where he trapped her under the silky green covers of their bed. She giggled, kicking out, tumbling over onto her side as he reached for her ribs with feather-light touches. He released her, raising the blanket until he was underneath it as well.

They faced each other, eyes shining. He placed his forehead onto hers, tilting downward. She kissed his neck, then his shoulder, then his neck again until she nuzzled there. He wrapped himself around her, and she sighed, happiness seeming to radiate off her being. Her hands remained pressed against his chest.

“I love you, Aang,” she murmured, sleep seeping into her words. She must have been more fatigued than he thought.

He hugged her tighter. She was peaceful where they lay, her heartbeat relaxed. He closed his eyes, intent on keeping her close. He never fell asleep though, determined to follow through with his convoluted plan.

Aang let her sleep past the one-hour mark. He crept out of bed, careful not to wake her. He made his way to the desk in the living room and sat down on the stool in front of it. He grabbed the brush and inkstone and smiled at the thought of her. He would finish her notes himself. Katara deserved it. With his feet flat on the tile, he contented himself with feeling her vibrations through the earth. The calming rise and fall of her chest pushed him through.

**Author's Note:**

> Tarkik is an Inuit name I found meaning "moon."
> 
> The mung bean soup Aang made is also based on a Filipino dish called "munggo" that I grew up with and love. It's one of the most comforting dishes to me and makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Of course, the one I grew up with usually has pork and/or shrimp in it, but you can make it vegetarian easily. I would also like to point out that the horseradish plant leaves are actually called "malunggay" in Tagalog, but I don't know a proper English translation for it. I had to look up a good enough translation, and apparently some people call it a horseradish plant? It's not the same horseradish in the West though, so it's a bit of a strange translation. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed and please leave some love! Thanks!


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